Hey Inkbots,
I'm in a wierd mood tonight, so I figured that this would be a good time to share one of my first pieces with all of you.
YOUR HELL IS MY HEAVEN
The piano plays in my head,
while blood is filling my brain,
I tip my hat off to life,
for death has taken my name,
but I can never complain,
for death has given me fame
and a frame to hang up pictures of the thoughts that remain,
but then my mother's picture fades and blows up from the grenades
that rebels threw in a daze, and I can no longer say
that I recognize this world, so go on, take me away
to where the monsters look like monsters and everything isn't grey.
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